The Coxswains Bride | Page 9

and the gallant
rescue that preceded it, will be found in another part of this day's issue),
was followed up in the afternoon by a feast, and what we may style a
jollification, which will live long in the memory of our fisher-folk.
"Several circumstances combined to render this wedding-feast unique.
To say nothing of the singular beauty of the bride, who is well known
as one of the most thrifty and modest girls in the town, and the stalwart
appearance of our coxswain, who, although so young, has already
helped to save hundreds of human lives from the raging sea, the
gathering was graced by the presence of the bridegroom's bed-ridden
mother. Old Mrs Massey had been carried in, bed and all, to the scene
of festivity; and it is due to the invalid to state that, despite rheumatics
and the singularity of her position, she seemed to enjoy herself
exceedingly. Besides this, the friends and comrades of the
coxswain--backed by the enthusiastic groomsman, Joe Slag--would not
permit Massey to don wedding garments, but insisted on his dancing
himself dry, in the rough garb in which he had effected the rescue. This
he had no difficulty in doing, having already run himself more than half
dry in hastening from the lifeboat to the church, which latter he reached
only just in time.
"The little girl whom Massey personally saved was also present, with
her mother and grandfather; and one interesting episode of the evening
was the presentation to our coxswain of a gold watch and a purse of
fifty sovereigns by the grateful old grandfather. Another peculiarity of
the proceedings was that Massey insisted--although the clergyman was
present--on his old mother asking God's blessing on the feast before it
began. All who are acquainted with our liberal-minded vicar will easily
understand that he highly approved of the arrangement.
"To crown all, the feast was conducted on strictly teetotal principles.
We have frequently advocated the principles of total abstinence in these
columns--at least for the young, the healthy, and the strong--and we are

glad to acknowledge that this wedding has greatly helped our cause; for
the fun and hilarity in all, the vigour of limb in dancing, and of lung in
singing--in short, the general jollity--could not have been surpassed if
the guests had been swilling rivers of beer and brandy, instead of
oceans of tea. Yes, as one of the Irish guests remarked, `It was a great
occasion intoirely,' and it will be long before the event is forgotten, for
the noble deeds of our Greyton lifeboat are, from this day forward,
intimately and inseparably connected with her coxswain's wedding!"
Thus spake the Greyton oracle; but, prophet though that journal
professed to be, the oracle failed to discern that from that time forward
the names of Robert Massey and Joe Slag would very soon cease to be
connected with the Greyton lifeboat.

STORY ONE, CHAPTER 3.
Soon after the wedding recorded in the last chapter an event occurred
which entirely altered the character and current of our coxswain's
career, at least for a time. This was the sudden death of the bed-ridden
old mother, who had played such an interesting part at the
wedding-feast.
To our hero, who was a tender-hearted man, and a most affectionate
son, the blow was almost overwhelming, although long expected.
"I don't think I can stay here much longer," he said one evening to his
pretty wife, as they sat together outside their door and watched the
village children romping on the sands; "everything minds me o' the
dear old woman, an' takes the heart out me. If it wasn't for you, Nell, I'd
have been off to the other side o' the world long before now, but I find
it hard to think o' takin' you away from all your old friends and
playmates--and your Aunt Betty."
A peculiar smile lit up Nellie's face as her husband concluded.
"I should be sorry to leave the old friends here," she replied, "but don't
let that hinder you if ye want to go away. I'd leave everything to please

you, Bob. And as to Aunt Betty--well, I'm not ungrateful, I hope,
but--but she wouldn't break her heart at partin' wi' me."
"Right you are, Nell, as you always was, and always will be," said
Massey. He laughed a short, dry laugh, and was grave again.
It was quite evident that Aunt Betty would not be a hindrance to the
departure of either of them and no wonder, for Betty had received
Nellie Carr into her family with a bad grace when her widowed brother,
"old Carr," died, leaving his only child without a home. From that day
Betty had brought the poor little orphan up--or, rather, had scolded and
banged her up--until Bob Massey relieved her